''If it's American or not American, I don't know. You can correct me however you want.”

Klinsmann first said this in December to New York Times writer Sam Borden, who was preparing a magazine piece on the coach that would run adjacent to the World Cup. When that terrific piece ran, no surprise, the “we can’t win” quote became a thing for media commentators. Because that’s what is done in sports media now. You say it, the business fillets it.

Sorry, folks, but that's American as the NCAA Tournament; as American as college football on a Saturday afternoon; as American as, indeed, baseball. There are teams in every one of these purely American athletic endeavors for whom a championship is not a realistic goal as the competition begins. Those competitors know it, and most will honestly acknowledge it if they’re discussing their prospects with the media.

Seriously, have you not ever seen a college football coach whose primary goal at a particular stage of his program’s evolution was merely to make a postseason bowl game? You think the sport needs 39 bowls because everyone involved believes a national title is possible?

Have you never seen the players for a 14 seed in the NCAA Tournament celebrate as though they just won the national championship after winning a single game? If not, Google the terms “Mercer” and “dance.” If that doesn’t do it for you, add "Duke." You’ll catch on.

The United States has been serious about soccer for less than two decades. Major League Soccer began in 1996. Crew Stadium, the first soccer-specific major venue in the nation, opened in 1999. At this stage of the sport’s progression in this country, it is no more realistic to expect the U.S. to win the World Cup than to expect Stephen F. Austin to win the NCAA Tournament.

In acknowledging this, Klinsmann is not declaring his players will decline to compete as hard as possible to accomplish whatever they can while they’re alive in the World Cup. He’s saying the U.S. as a soccer nation has a ways to go, even as it has made exceptional progress in a short period of time.

If people are truly worried about the sport’s direction, instead of worrying about a few words that will have no bearing on either the future of U.S. soccer or its performance in this World Cup they should wonder why the flow of U.S.-trained players as capable as Landon Donovan and DaMarcus Beasley not only has failed to accelerate in the recent years, it has come close to shutting down. The U.S. has not performed well at a FIFA youth tournament — from the 23-under Olympics to the U-17 World Cup — since Michael Bradley and Jozy Altidore excelled at the 2007 U-20s.

Donovan is and/or was a great player, but his level of play is not so extraordinary that a nation that has been investing in soccer for two decades maybe should have produced a few more like him in the years since he emerged.

If Klinsmann’s silly critics want the U.S. to truly have a chance to win the World Cup, that’s what will be needed.